don't you see it's wrong, can't you get it right?
by Tiffany Blews
Summary: Um, you know what, I think I might be, like, having an episode or something so I'll just - go! Yeah, I'll go!" "You already know it, Casey. Don't make me try to find the words." Casey/Derek, of course.


It's all over.

"Casey," he says on a breath, his mouth on my neck, his heavenly voice lost in the hot air that hangs around us.

For a moment, I am lost in the perfection of it all. The sweet feel of his hands on my hips, the slow burn of his skin against mine. I trace my fingers over his lips, his hair, his shoulders; commit every single part of him to memory. He places a kiss to my collar bone, his beautiful lips coming to rest there as he murmurs words that I can't really hear. It's like slow motion; like the world stops turning for just a minute, just long enough for me to understand.

And then I am me again.

"DerekDerekDerek," I chant, my mind already weaving scenarious in which we are caught. This is wrong, I think, this will land me straight in hell. Because I am not that type of girl; I do not cheat with skeezy guys like Derek and I don't lie and I don't do these things because I am Casey. Casey, Casey, Casey.

There is a flash of light before my eyes, a low moan from the boy above me, and my nails dig into the flesh of his shoulders. He lets out a hiss, I feel it on my skin, and then it's over.

It's all over.

---

We don't speak of it.

I do my best to let it go, walk around like nothing's changed. I call Truman every night and we talk about school and friends and specifically _not_ Derek, and everything is fine. I haven't seen him since, and we live on opposite ends of the campus so it's not that hard to hide away from him (not that he's even looking). He is perpetually at the hockey rink, and I spend my time in the library or at coffee houses, always working working working.

We never see each other, and I don't think about it.

But a movie reel lives in my dreams, and it plays on repeat every night.

_Red sheets and a plaid comforter from his room back home are thrown haphazardly across the bed as we curl up in it. His fingers are splayed across my stomach, knotting in my hair and erasing all the lies that I've been telling myself for years. This is no joke; this is real, and he's going to make sure that I know it. There's a clock on the bedside table, it glows red and reads eleven pm. I should be home. Should be somewhere, _anywhere_, else. _

_"Just give me tonight." He says, and I could never deny him when he's got those eyes on me. I don't say anything, instead I kiss him, brave, so brave, and that's the only answer he needs._

When I wake up to a text from Truman, I throw my phone against the wall.

---

"Are you okay?"

Not really, I want to say, but I don't, instead I just nod, hope it's convincing. Emily's visiting for the weekend, and she sensed something was wrong the moment she saw me.

"Casey, come on, I know you. Just tell me."

"I'm fine, Em. Really. Just a little stressed, is all."

Emily looks at me (looks right through me) and sits down, her body half turned towards me, her eyes locking on mine .

"You know you can tell me anything, right? I'm always gonna be here for you, Casey."

I keep my lips closed tight as I fall backwards on the bed.

---

Sometimes I wonder if it mattered to him the way that it mattered to me.

As soon as the thought creeps in, I shove it out as far as possible, because I don't want to think about him. I don't want to think about that night and how it was...

It doesn't matter and I don't want to think about it.

I want to go on with my life.

(...perfect.)

---

"So... where's Derek?"

"What?" I ask distractedly as I scan the words on my computer screen.

"Where's Derek?" Emily repeats, and I kick the image of his face out of my mind.

"Around, I guess."

"Around?"

"He lives in the athletic wing, and practice keeps him busy most of the time. Not to mention all that partying he must be doing."

There's silence in the room for a few minutes. I can feel Emily's eyes on my face and I just want to tell her to _stop trying to pick me apart, okay? _

"It's him, isn't it? Are you two fighting or something?"

"Or something."

---

I don't care.

And it shocks me. It shocks me all the way to hell and back. Truman says it's over and _I don't care_. At all.

He does it by text, as Emily and I sit in my favorite coffee shop, and I realize that it doesn't matter. It never really did. It was just... A distraction. Laughter bubbles out from my mouth, and suddenly, I can't stop.

"Casey?" Emily questions, her eyes worried. I hand over my phone and shake my head, because this is just too ridiculous.

---

I get it now.

Like, every peice of it. And I understand.

And I wonder if he ever knew, if he ever saw it the way that I just couldn't for so long. It took sex and a month of silence, but I understand.

---

"Derek! De-rek! Open the door!"

It's fucking raining and I'm standing outside his door banging on it with my fists, just praying that he'll _open it the fuck up_! I feel like a failure; I feel like an idiot.

"What the _hell _Spacey?!" He says as the door opens up and he stands in front of me, his hair all disheveled, pajama pants slung low on his hips. I'm stunned for a second; the rain falls and he looks at me like I'm a psycho, those eyes the only thing that I can focus on.

"Did you fucking plan it, Venturi?" I shout at him as I push my hair out of my face, and he takes my arm and drags me inside his apartment.

"You really are crazy, aren't you?" He says as he rubs a tired hand over his face.

"You've had it all figured out since the beginning! Let's drive Casey _nuts _and fuck her mind all up, then let her get a boyfriend that's _exactly like me_, then SCREW HER, and make her even _more fucked up_!!!!"

Derek's mouth hangs open, and then he says, "Do I need to get you some help, or something?"

"No, _Derek, _I don't need help. I just... I need you to say it."

That look is back on his face (from that night but I won't think about it I refuse I refuse, oh damn it all to hell. there's no point because everyone knows how this ends, everyone knows it.) and I _pray _he says something, anything, says what I want him to say.

He looks like he's about to be sick, like something's wrong, and suddenly, I think I've made a grave mistake. Oh, God.

"Um, you know what, I think I might be, like, having an episode or something so I'll just - go! Yeah, I'll go!"

I turn away from, grab for the door and his hand is on my wrist, pulling me back. He's laughing, his pretty, pretty eyes sparkle at me, and you know, maybe I'm not wrong.

"I... you already know, Casey. Don't make me try to find the words."

So I don't.

And he kisses me.

---

For a moment, I'm lost in the perfection of it all.

The sweet feel of his hands on my hips, the slow burn of his skin against mine. I trace my fingers over his lips, his hair, his shoulders; commit every single part of him to memory. He places a kiss to my collar bone, his beautiful lips coming to rest there as he murmurs words that I can't really hear. It's like slow motion; like the world stops turning for just a minute, just long enough for me to smile.

And then, I realize that this is how it was always supposed to be. And this moment, this person, this Casey, melts into the one I've always been, and they both melt into Derek, and it's like a fairy tale. Like a sunset.

Like the most beautiful thing that I've ever witnessed.

It's all beginning.

* * *

this whole thing is pretty much just a hot mess. but i really needed to get some dasey out of my system. and i know it's been wayyyyyy too long since i've written one :) i hope atleast one person likes this and reviews, that'd be great :) and btw i've recently fallen in love with glee so watch out for some puck/rachel or puck/quinn or hey, even rachel/quinn or finn/rachel. love you guys!


End file.
